


Aftermath

by GarnetSeren



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 19:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: What happened after the Autumn of Terror, after Jack the Ripper's horrific reign is ended, after Evie finally got her brother back?***Written in multiple PoVs, one chapter per character. WARNING: There are mentions of torture, but it is mild***





	1. Rescue (Abberline PoV)

Frederick carefully hefted Jacob in his arms, trying not to think of how light the man was. A man of Mr Frye's stature... previous stature, should not weigh barely more than a woman. Jacob had been a roguishly good looking, slightly vain, well built man. Six foot tall, with muscles Frederick had secretly envied for the past twenty years, now he doubted Jacob weighed anymore than his lithe sister; Evie. As he carried his friend out into the rain filled night, with Miss Frye... no Mrs Green, beside them, Frederick tried not to think that it had taken a month to find Jacob. A month that he had been at the mercy of Jack the Ripper. It churned his stomach to think of it, to imagine what his friend had lived through, far more than seeing Jacob's bloody and swollen face, to see how his tattered clothes stuck to very visible wounds. Frederick also tried not to think of the orders he'd just issued, to both Evie and his men. He had always thought himself a good police officer, but how good was he, when he'd just given Mrs Green his flask of whiskey, and instructed her to burn the Ripper's body. Of course, he did it to help and protect the two siblings that had been his friends for the past twenty years, but was it right? Not that it mattered, as the fire quickly took hold of Lambeth Asylum, though hopefully his officers had managed to rescue the remaining inmates. Thankfully, the ones posted on guard duty had managed to disperse the journalists, preying vultures that they were. Though he was surprised to see a petite figure in a jet black cloak, slip past his men, and make a beeline for them. As soon as the figure pushed back her hood, to reveal a shock of red curls and startling green eyes, Frederick couldn't help give the newcomer a tired smile.

“Ann,” he greeted.

“Thought you might need a hand. The boys have a carriage waiting.”

As usual, Frederick bit back a chuckle at her thick Welsh accent. Anwynn and her brothers had been a semi-permanent fixture in his life for the past ten years. As far as he could tell, their main base of operation was Cardiff, but they frequented London several times a year. Frederick had never figured out exactly what the trio did... some said they worked in property, other's said distribution, all he was certain was that it probably wasn't entirely legal. However, like the Frye twins, the Jones siblings did good. They had helped relocated more witnesses for protection, than Frederick could even keep count of anymore. Helped get orphans, prostitutes and beggars off the streets, and either into foster families... which blew Frederick's mind, or offered them legitimate employment. He had even experienced, first hand, Ann's medical skills... when he'd been undercover, and she'd extracted a bullet out of his shoulder, patching him up without batting an eyelid. That was actually how he'd met the then plucky twenty year old former nurse, and a decade later, Frederick knew he could count on her and her family no matter what. In truth, he'd already been thinking of seeking her out to help with Jacob, not really trusting any of the hospitals this side of the Thames.

“Who are you?” Evie demanded, suspiciously.

“A friend.”

The fact that he and Anwynn had replied at exactly the same time, with exactly the same answer, had Frederick biting back another laugh. A part of him, wondered if he was feeling a little hysterical, which wouldn't be surprising, all things considered. Evie still looked dubious, but nodded her consent as their companion removed her own rain spattered cloak, and draped it over Jacob's unconscious form. Frederick didn't comment on the almost affection stroke Ann gave the assassin's blood matted hair, before she covered his face with the cloak's hood, and wondered if the two knew each other. It wouldn't surprise him, since Jacob was London's answer to Robin Hood, and the Jones siblings seemed intent on helping any misbegotten soul they could. Though Frederick decided to leave his questions for a later date, the more pressing matter was getting Jacob safely into Anwynn's carriage, despite the mob that still lingered near. Surprisingly, the short journey was uneventful, and Frederick soon watched as the Jones' carriage quickly sped out of Whitechapel.


	2. Ruminations (Anwynn PoV)

Anwynn's hands did not shake as she peeled off Jacob's tattered clothes. They didn't shake as she cleaned the welts, stitched the lacerations, or extracted the cruel metal barbs from his body. They didn't shake as she gently washed his dirty skin or blood matted hair. They didn't shake as she bandaged his broken ribs, splinted his fractured leg and fingers, and reset his dislocated shoulder. They didn't shake when she gave him a heavy does of Laudanum; the only pain relief her brother's had been able to find at such short notice. However, Anwynn's hands shook as she accepted the gin that Evie Green handed her, when she finally left her sleeping patient's side. Groaning, she settled into her favourite armchair of their London town house, with Jacob's twin sister sitting opposite her. The two women stared into the hearth's flickering embers, the mantle clock ticking in the too quiet room, until Mrs Green finally shattered the silence.

“You love him.”

Startled from her wandering thoughts, Anwynn jumped slightly, the clear liquid sloshing out of her glass and onto her black skirt. Without thinking, she downed what was left of her gin, grimacing slightly as it burned her throat, before warily turning to face Mrs Green. She knew the woman was an assassin, but that was not what made her nervous. This was Jacob's sister... his twin no less... and considering how protective she herself was on her brothers, Anwynn wasn't exactly convinced this was going to be a friendly chat. Especially considering what Mrs Green had just delivered her brother from.

“Why do you say that?”

Mrs Green's smile was kinder than expected. “I saw the care you took with him, Miss Jones.”

“I was a nurse,” she deflected.

“Which means you work quick and efficiently. It doesn't mean you murmur apologise to a delirious man, if his breath so much as hitches whilst you patch him up. Nor does it account for how your hands tremble, now he doesn't need them to be steady.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “Not that it matters...”

“He doesn't know?”

It was Anwynn's turn to smile, though a little wistfully. “No, Mrs Green, I highly doubt he does. I've taken pains over the years to ensure it remained a secret. I know what Ja... Mr Frye does for a living, we have helped where we can, but I am no fool. Even before... _this_ , I knew he had enemies.”

The other woman arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “And you didn't want to be a target?”

“I don't want to be a liability, Mrs Green,” she corrected, harshly. “I am no fighter, and I am sure we both know the lengths Ja... Mr Frye will go for a friend. I have no desire to add to his burden, since I know I would already be a target, as you so charmingly said.”

The atmosphere that settled around them was tense, a silence that could cut, and both women jumped when a log suddenly crackled in the fire place. Mrs Green sighed then, finishing her own glass of gin, before unexpectedly leaning across the distance between them, to catch Anwynn's hand.  
  
“It's Evie,” she said, softly. “And believe me, I know Jacob... you should tell him.”

 


	3. Advice (Evie PoV)

Finding Jacob had been the biggest relief and the biggest devastation Evie had ever experienced. He was alive, but barely recognisable... barely concious. He flinched when she touched him, and though Evie logically knew it was because of whatever sadistic tortures Jack had inflicted upon him, it still stung to have her own twin cower from her. And the fact they had to chloroform him, just so Frederick could carry him out of the bowels of Lambeth Asylum, did little to help her already frayed nerves. She'd been on heightened alert when they stepped out into the foggy night air, suspicious of the red haired woman who had emerged from the gathered crowd, and made a beeline straight for them. The fact Frederick seemed to trust the new comer, barely soothed Evie, though she was down right shocked, when the woman gently stroked Jacob's hair... lovingly, if she dare say it. What was more surprising, was that even unconscious, her twin seemed to lean into the redhead's touch. So without a word, Evie pulled herself into the woman's carriage, intent on making sure no further harm came to her brother.

Silently, she'd helped the woman... Miss Jones, aparently... take care of her brother. The redhead's actions were deft and precise, obviously skilled, though there was something beyond that. Her touch was attentive and gentle, her voice was calm and comforting whenever she soothed her patient. The was a warmth in Miss Jones' eyes, as well as tears, as she'd given Jacob a final look before leaving him to rest. That was when Evie realised it was the same look Henry gave her, whenever she'd come back injured from a mission. For a brief moment, she was a little hurt... surely even after living in India for ten years, her brother _would_ have told her he'd finally met someone. But then she wondered, were they together? It had taken herself and Henry far too long to admit their feelings for each other, and after all, she wasn't sure how long Miss Jones and her brother had been acquaintances... so could that be the reason she'd never heard of this woman? In either case, Evie was too curious to let the mater drop, so as the silence settled around them, she simply asked.

To say she wasn't exactly expecting the answer she got, nor the obvious protectiveness Miss Jones felt towards Jacob, was an understatement. Still, it somehow soothed her ravaged heart. They talked into the night after that, becoming somewhat friends as the hours slowly ticked by. Eventually, Anwynn... Ann to Frederick and Wynn to her brother's it seemed... eventually fell asleep, curled up as comfortably as she could, on the high-backed armchair. Smiling slightly, she draped her own cloak around the younger woman, before padding softly towards her brother's convalescing room. She wasn't exactly surprised to find Jacob stirring, Anwynn had warned the Laudanum would only last so long. And after a moment assuring him he was somewhere safe, Evie spooned the tincture into her brother's mouth, offering him a glass of water as he grimaced at the taste. When he tried to crack open his badly swollen eyes, barely managing to confusedly mutter her name, Evie gently took his hand in hers... careful of the splints Anwynn had used to set the broken bones. She had to lean her ear close to his lips, to hear his slurred and whispered questions, but soon she explained where he was and what had happened since his rescue. At the mention of Anwynn's name, Jacob tried to push himself up in bed, turning his head this way and that. Despite her worry that he'd aggravate his injuries, Evie couldn't help but smile... Jacob had always been vein, and she was convinced he was looking for his damnable top hat.

“Miss Jones was the one kind enough to put you back together,” she teased, gently. “And clean you up.”

Jacob flopped back onto his pillow, and despite the awful swelling and mottled bruising, Evie was certain her brother was embarrassed. With a soft sigh, she gently swept his still damp hair off his forehead, before carefully cupping his cheek.

“You love her?” she asked, kindly.

He tried to glare at her, but failed miserable. Huffing out a breath, Jacob starred up to the ceiling, before slowly nodding.

Evie's smile grew. “Perhaps you should tell her.”


	4. Confessions (Jacob PoV)

Gasping for breath, Jacob jolted back to reality, his chest heaving painfully and his hair sticking to his temples with sweat. Frustrated, he punched the soft mattress, and regretted it immediately as agony shot through his hand. The splints on his fingers had only been removed that morning, and he'd been warned it could take several weeks until they were fully healed... it had already been three weeks since Evie and Freddie had gotten him out of that hell hole. And even though he knew Jack was finally dead, killed by his sister's blade, the memories still plagued him every time he closed his eyes. Terrible nightmares haunted him, and despite laying in the sumptuous bed for weeks on end, Jacob still felt haggered. He dared say he must look it as well, unable to trim his beard, trusting no-one... not even Evie... to do the job for him. Still black and blue from the countless beatings he'd took, though thankfully the swelling to both eyes had finally receded. He hazard a guess it had been close to two month since he last bathed, since his accommodation beneath the asylum had seriously lacked in amenities, and he barely had the strength to drag himself out of bed for the chamber pot, let alone a bath. He'd relied on Anwynn for... everything the last three weeks. Despite his deserved reputation, Jacob blushed every time his favourite redhead helped him wash, helped him eat, and most mortifying... stumble to the chamber pot the first few times. And every time he saw her, Evie's words whirled around his mind:

“ _You love her?... Perhaps you should tell her.”_

A soft knock at his door, roused Jacob from his thoughts. Moment's later, the woman in question peeked around the stout wood, her red curls gloriously messy from sleep. She looked stunning, and in the seven years he'd known Anwynn, Jacob had fallen for her a little more, each time he saw her. By now, he knew he was doomed, and he instantly felt guilty. Not only for harbouring those feelings as so bright and wonderful as her, but for troubling her yet again. He had no idea what time it was, but presumably it was late for Anwynn to be in bed, which meant his nightmare had woken her... again. Still, he mustered a smile for her, and taking it as the invitation it was, she slipped inside his room. She quietly padded over to the bed, her bare feet hardly making a sound, as she pulled her green velvet robe tightly over her white nightdress. It was only then that Jacob realised how cold he was, the cool night air having chilled his sweat soaked skin. Unable to help himself, he shivered, and Anwynn smiled in understanding. Silently, she went to the washbasin, soaking then wringing out a fresh flannel, before finally reaching his bed. Wordlessly, she began to gently wipe his bare chest and arms, and Jacob barely dared breathe as he watched her beautiful face, whilst she focused kindly on him. A small tap on his shoulder had him struggling to sit forward, his arm linked through hers for support, as she wiped his back... as was routine by now. She returned to the basin once more, re-wetting the cloth, then perched on the side of his bed. Jacob was mesmerised as he watched her reach up to wipe his face, seeing the kindness and affection clearly written on her face. The look made his heart pound uncontrollably, his gut twisted, and he finally had to admit Evie was right... he had to tell her. Swallowing audibly, Jacob took a steadying breath, breathing in the soft floral fragrance that seemed to follow her everywhere, and gently caught her wrist. Taking the cue, she set the wash cloth on the bedside table, before sliding her hand gently into his.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked, softly.

Jacob shook his head. “Not... not tonight. But... there's um...” He sighed. “I need to... _shit!_ ”

She chuckled softly. “I'm listening.”

He couldn't look at her... she was just too beautiful, haloed by the wan moonlight filtering through the half closed curtains. She looked like some woodland fairy, a creature too amazing and beautiful for a city like London... but Anwynn didn't live there, not on a permanent basis. He'd listened to her stories of rolling countryside and towering hills, of rushing waterfalls and crashing waves. She loved her homeland fiercely, and Jacob had fallen in love with the unseen place, just as much as he'd fallen for her. London was no longer home, not after the Autumn of Terror, and he would follow Anwynn anywhere... if she'd have him.

“Annie...”

Jacob trailed off, unsure how to actually tell her. He had no trouble picking up a one night stand, or wooing a potential bed fellow long enough for a brief fling. But he'd never, _never_ told someone he loved them. And in truth, until he meant this vivacious redhead, it was a feeling he'd never had. He couldn't meet her lovely green eyes, instead focusing on how her petite hand was still clasped in his... he couldn't tell her, he didn't deserve her... but aparently, Anwynn had different ideas. Chuckling quietly, she tilted his chin up with her free hand, lightly scratching the beard that had grown.

“This suits you,” she whispered.

Before Jacob could form a response, Anwynn had leant forward, her rosy pink lips pressing gently to his. In all honesty, it was a chaste and fleeting thing. A ghost of a kiss, a hint, a tease, a promise... it left Jacob's head reeling.

“And just so you know,” she murmured, slowly leaning back in. “I love you too.”

 


End file.
